


Even with my fingers dipped in darkness

by boxofwonder



Category: Persona 5
Genre: And she's all out of names, And shit gets real complicated real fast, But then Goro is also there, Gen, Haru is here to kick ass and take names, royal au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 13:44:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13147932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boxofwonder/pseuds/boxofwonder
Summary: After her father's death, Haru honed herself to become the blade ending Shido's reign of terror.But challenging the king to a duel yanks her right into a game of lies and intrigues that will force her to question everything she thought she knew before she can even dream of succeeding.





	Even with my fingers dipped in darkness

**Author's Note:**

> This is my fifth attempt to upload. Please be kind, AO3.

Haru revelled in the ripple of gasps around her as she stepped out of the shadow, head lifted to meet the eyes of the king across his sprawling court room.

So very luxurious and decadent, gleaming in gaudy gold and marvel. All that her father had worked for, sacrificed for, lied and betrayed for. He would have given it all for such luxuries, and in the end, the price had been his life.

“King Shido!” she called, voice booming through every nook and crevice of this grand hall. She unsheathed her blade, pointing it straight at him.

All around, guards jarred into action. The lone ring of her steel drawn was echoed by over a dozen of them, storming towards her.

“For your crimes against my family,” Haru called, undeterred by the flurry of movement around her. “I challenge you to a duel!”

The grand hall fell quiet, steps petering out, blades halting in the air.

She had made herself untouchable.

All eyes turned towards their king, waiting, anticipating. The air was swollen with nervous, giddy energy. They all yearned for sensation, and a masked stranger appearing from the shadows and challenging the king himself to a duel was the absolute height of a spectacle.

King Shido could not refuse her without losing face.

“Step closer, then. Is it not customary to greet your opponent before challenging him?” Shido asked, voice smooth. Undeterred.

Haru smiled, a tight and sharp thing. With time, she would unsettle and shame him for his crimes. She wove her way through the forest of sharpened metal raised against her with slow, measured steps. “As a noble lady, I recognise the importance of manner and grace. However, I do not see a reason to extend those to the murderer of my father.”

Another ripple of gasps and murmurs went through the hall. She could sense it, pressing against her skin - the people’s confusion, and their anger towards her. But she also saw some gazes flitting aside, servants who kept quiet, crossed their arms as if shielding themselves. The thing that had lit in their eyes, for that one second - the thing they needed to hide - had been hope.

For her father. For these people. For justice. Haru would become hope itself.

“You dare walk into my courtroom to spew such vile, baseless accusations?” Shido scoffed. “That is why little girls should never be allowed to play with swords.”

The chuckles around rose. What a tactic indeed, trying to turn her into a joke to deflect from the blood that stained his hands, his very reign. But Haru had learned, after a lifetime of people trying to make her lose her footing, that the only stable foundation was her own resolve, untouchable as diamond.

“This little girl would rather like you to face hers,” she replied, expression not wavering. Her voice was soft. “Since you have nothing to fear, King Shido, why won’t you?”

Another ripple of attention, of murmurs. At the very least, she had yet to lose all favour with his crowd.

“What is your name, little one?” Shido placed his fingertips together, his smile serene and placating. “I make it a habit not to murder helpless girls, you know. I would hate to start with this now, because of a decision born from hysteria. Perhaps we could talk about this civilly?”

“My name is Okumura Haru,” she replied, chin lifted in pride. “I am perfectly rational, and I have planned the ideal way to challenge you since the day I threw the first handful of dirt onto my father’s casket. Face me in a duel. I would rather bleed out and fail to put an end to your bloodshed, than withdraw and live in peace knowing you will continue your slaughter.”

Shido, of course, laughed. It was the only way to ease the breathless silence her words had left. Play it as a joke. But it worked only partially, Haru knew she had left an impression that lingered between the marvel arches of the courtroom. There was nothing like a sincere challenge, delivered calm and calculated.

She had waited so long for this moment. Haru felt no fear.

“Lady Okumura. I had not anticipated a fine lady such as you in that … costume.” He took his time to dip that word into subtle disdain.

Haru could not care less for the king's attempts of discrediting her. She drew a proud hand along the feather at her hat. “I figured a gaudy dress would have been inappropriate to deliver justice.”

“How very amusing you are, indeed.” Shido clicked his tongue. “It is highly unfortunate you insist on forfeiting your life, but so be it. You have studied the rules of a duel, have you not?”

In great detail. Haru had raided their own library, and then more. The answer, of course, had been hidden in Shido’s own, in the end.

But a thief with talented hands could find even such a tome, and deliver it straight to her hand.

“I took my time to study quite an interesting book,” she said with a smile, enjoying the cold annoyance flashing in the king’s eyes. The little girl with her sword, who had stolen his most vital secret directly from his own library, by means Shido could not place.

Perhaps, at last, he realised who he was facing down. “It detailed the codes of honour that prevail in your land. I respect such a thing deeply, of course, as do you without a doubt.”

She had him now.

The king himself could not forego the values of his land without his people scorning him for it. And that was the truly perfidious aspect of the man's ruse - Shido basked in support. Needed it to keep his reign steady.

He had no choice but to incline his head. “Indeed, Lady Okumura. Of course, as you insist, I accept your challenge. Nothing less could be expected of me.”

She was near breathless with relief, but of course, Haru did not let it show. Months of planning. Akira risking his very life to appear here. For this to finally happen. Now it was all up to her own strength.

“But you understand that our country values not simply honour, but stability as well?”

It was a perfectly innocent statement, delivered so casually that somehow, it made her stomach tighten with dread.

“As would any country of worth,” she agreed.

“If the king himself fought every single duel posed to him, when would he reign? And how would he keep his hands clean from shedding the blood of a deluded little girl?”

“What are you -” she began, grasping for the first time since she had gotten here. Had she overlooked something? A rule? A factor? How was this tipping out of her control, after all the careful measures she had taken?

“I would like you to meet my son, Lady Okumura.”

No. There had been no word of a _son._ What was this? It was universally known that King Shido, so far, lacked an _heir._

But from the shadow behind his throne, the antithesis to Haru's entrance across the hall, stepped a young man with an unreadable expression. His attire was clean, but far from regal.

He must have been here this entire time, and yet, why would a regent not take a seat next to his father? Why would he not be adorned, why would he go unseen and dressed in clothes that in no way reflected his true status -

But of course Haru realised, upon remembering the specification of rules, the truth of this man’s fate. He was, merely, the least worthy. A blade tossed into the ring.

Such had been his purpose all along. A secret son, a bastard no doubt, kept as a spare for those recognising his opportunity.

“My own blood, my champion.” Shido rose to place a hand on the man’s shoulder, who stiffened beneath the touch, his expression not betraying a single movement. “We will commence the preparations. Tomorrow, you will face him in the arena.”

That was when the nameless prince’s gaze snapped up, its ferocious intensity burning through Haru like a shock. She barely heard the king's words. Meeting that gaze without flinching was more challenging than standing in front of Shido had been.

“In the meantime, may I ask you to let yourself be accompanied to your rooms for the night? There is more business to attend to than this charade.”

It was the prince who reacted, his gaze sliding away and breaking the spell.

She felt numb as she was led away from the throne room, as she traded its gaudy glamour for a slightly less pompous, but equally grating maze of halls and sprawling ceilings polished to a shine, their monotony inviting her thoughts to wander.

All her meticulous planning, only for the man to have a spare champion to scapegoat for this fight. Now Haru would be forced to hold her own against someone innocent, just as much pawn to this as she had been. As her father had been.

To cut her way through that prince, a man the king had not even called by _name._ The disrespect Shido had shown had her trembling. How convenient indeed, to put them against each other.

Haru could not afford to lose this battle of life and death. But cutting her way through innocent people to achieve her goals … wouldn't that make her no better than Shido himself?

Besides, she still shuddered thinking of that intense gaze on her. For a split-second, those eyes had almost seemed to glow red. This wasn’t a man who intended to lose his life tomorrow.

_But neither can I,_ she thought, with determination. _Not as long as that king is free to murder as he sees fit._

  
  


\---

  
  


“I was under the impression a challenger must be subjected to a certain kind of courtesy,” Haru said, voice brittle with how unamused she was, and yet, how unsurprised that the guards opened a cell door for her.

“Why?” asked one guard, shoving her inside. Haru had long been stripped from her weapon. For safekeeping, before tomorrow. Of course.

The guard forced her hands up, and Haru hissed as she felt the weight of shackles clamping around them. _Over her head._ It was needless to shackle her in such an uncomfortable position when she was being placed into a _cell._ The codes of honour this country was built upon were being treated as a joke by its own court.

“You’re receiving the exact same treatment as the _prince,_ ” the guard spat, and they burst into laughter. As he stepped away, indeed, he revealed the man Haru had seen from the safe distance of several strides away before, mirroring her exactly - sitting on the cell floor with his wrists chained up above his head.

A sickening lurch of her stomach made Haru’s resolve burn brighter. She could not - _would not -_ let the king get away with this. Treating his own son this way, as well?! His ‘champion’!

“What kind of sick king would -” she began, but went unheard as the guards noisily slammed the door closed between them, laughing and spouting vile lines.

So Haru simply glared daggers after them, until they were gone. Until thick, moist silence of the dungeon was the only thing wrapping her and the stranger into an unwelcome embrace between them.

“Why?” she asked softly, her heart aching. Up close, she could see the cheeks of the stranger were sunken. Brown strands fell into his eyes, hiding them from view, but as he raised his gaze, she could see the dark circles beneath his eyes.

Eyes that were, indeed, a scarlet red and burning so ferociously, it took her breath away all over again.

“Why would -”

“Spare me your pity,” the prince snarled. His face might have seemed soft, but his expression and his tone left no doubt of who he was: sharp, wiry. Ready to use his broken edges to cut his way through any obstacle.

And the obstacle, of course, was Haru herself.

“I never wished to fight _you,_ ” she said, truthfully.

“And yet you will die by my hand.” His murderous intent rang unflinchingly true, as well. Said so simply, so matter-of-factly. Her only comfort was the fact that his gaze was not as cold, as detached as his father’s. No, his was all fire - raging, yearning to destroy. Fed by things Haru could not even begin to fathom. “ _I_ will be the one to kill that man. You think you can waltz in here and snatch away the purpose of my life for your revenge? You have no _right._ ”

Haru shifted slightly, already feeling her fingers prickling. What a state they would be in by the time their duel would commence tomorrow. It made no sense, to make them _both_ go through this.

“I have not come here for revenge,” Haru replied calmly. “I have come to deliver justice.”

The prince scoffed. “Petty semantics do not change the nature of a thing, Lady Okumura. At the end of your goal is a pool of blood to avenge your father. You are no better than I am.”

Perhaps he was right. Perhaps, that was what had become of her.

In truth, Haru had feared it since she had taken upon the persona she called Noir - a fighter seeking justice for the weak, for the oppressed. The price was so often blood, and so seldom did she manage to fight with words, with ideas, with her conviction.

“And yet, I wish to rid the world of men such as him. I like to think that makes me different enough to pursue this path without regrets.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “And if it makes me a monster, so be it. As long as I can protect the innocent, and prevent them from walking this very same path I walk.”

The prince tossed his head to get hair out of his face, and again, something … tugged at her. Something strange, something amiss. But his cold, empty laughter demanded her attention. “And what makes you think at the end of this you will not be the kind of monster he has become, forcing someone else to slay you?”

Haru tilted her head. She had considered that possibility, too, of course. But Akira would never allow her to stray so far. So, instead, she voiced a thought that nagged at her: “Is that what has become of you?”

For a second, a split-second, the fire in his eyes spluttered and revealed something behind it - a speck of truth there, a slip-up that had Haru lean closer as if it would help her see to his soul, the mystery of the life he had led. She was surprised by her own hunger for the prince's truth.

Whatever words he had for her never made it past his lips.

They heavy slam of the door did not make Haru stiffen as much as the fact that she realised it was the king himself come to spew more vile words.

“Have you gotten comfortable?” he asked, voice still so smooth. Haru wished she was close enough to spit at him - the highest disrespect she could think of. To show him exactly what her opinion was of a man who would raise a son whose life’s purpose killing his own father.

“I hadn’t realised you’d shackle your own son,” she said sharply, meeting his cold gaze without flinching.

“It is only for your safety, Lady Okumura. Else you would no longer be drawing any breath. Am I not right, Goro?”

Goro. So that was his name. The prince stayed quiet, looking away, but Haru knew the truth of the words. Prince Goro fully intended to kill her, tomorrow. Perhaps he would have taken a chance earlier.

Still, there were enough cells here to hold them both apart without shackles. There was a bigger plan in play here, and Haru braced herself to have it revealed.

“And I assume it is for his safety to have me shackled?” she asked dryly. “You forget, Your Majesty, it is not your son I came to challenge and defeat.”

She had no interest in slaughtering yet another victim of this man’s cruelty.

But something about the king’s smile made her tense, a sick twist in her stomach warning her for something she could not anticipate, could not brace for.

“I am doing you a favour, Lady Okumura. You merely do not know it yet.” King Shido smiled in a way that made Haru yearn for a blade in her hands. “I am also doing that man a favour, and he knows it. Do you not, Goro?”

The prince tensed, face in shadow. He looked … guilty. So this was punishment. What for, she wondered.

“But I must also thank you, Lady Okumura. You know, when that book got lost - it instilled a certain kind of … nervousness in me.” King Shido smiled pleasantly. “My own people would not challenge me. They adore me. Or break themselves on my favourite blade. But my enemies? Oh, what highly sensitive information wandered into your hands.” His gaze turned to the prince, growing ever colder - looking at his own son as if he was a maggot, a blemish. “You were so good, Goro. I trusted you so much. I called you my own son.”

Haru severely doubted that. Every instinct in her screamed to shut him up before he could do more harm with his words. It was so obvious that he was prodding wounds she could not see.

“And then you just had to let a thief slip away with something so valuable. You should be grateful to Lady Okumura, too.”

Grateful.

Haru closed her eyes, and opened them again. Looked at the prince shackled across from her with new eyes. He had allowed Akira to slip away, rather than kill him. That alone made her want to protect him all the more. He _was_ only a pawn, much as she had become now. Shackled and bound.

Not that she had ever been a stranger to being tied. By expectations, by prejudice, by pressure.

She would break free no matter how many times it would take. Until she reached her goal. Until this cruel ruler was relieved of his throne, until the fate of so many would no longer rest in the hands of a man who would call his own son a _blade_. That man had no speck of honour in his body.

“And why would that be?” she asked, cutting the king off, commanding his attention. She'd rather bear it than know it on Goro's shoulders.

“Because in the hands of a fearsome enemy, this book could have cost me dearly. But then, it turned out, there was only a revenge-driven noble girl behind it all, thinking she could take on me alone. In all actuality, this little feat of yours is more than your father could have ever accomplished.” Shido crossed his arms, and Haru struggled not to let her rage show on her face. “Of course, that makes both your ends only more pitiful. But that wasn't your question, was it? Thanks to you being harmless entertainment for my court, my son may prove himself once more. That is why he should be grateful to you. This is my kindness.”

Now, looking at his posture again, she was certain that Prince Goro was bruised and battered beneath his attire. That what she had noticed before had been him trying to hide his reaction, as he moved. That was why he was shackled this way.

To aggravate his wounds. To remind him of it.

Sending him wounded against her … just how much did Shido underestimate her? (Just how much would tomorrow's fight be tipped in his favour?)

Shido sneered, still staring at the prince. “Do not ruin this. I invested too much in you to -”

Haru clapped her boots together and swung her legs to the side, slamming the leather against the iron bars with as much force as she could muster. The impact vibrated from her toes to her knees, taking her breath away, but the sound was so jarring, it shut the asshole right up. “I believe that is enough,” she grit out, even though it felt like her teeth had chattered, too.

She squeaked - couldn’t help it - when a wrist grabbed her ankle before she could slip it away. Haru yanked, but instantly let her foot go limp at the unrelenting touch. Shido’s grip on her was ready to break bone, and his gaze, finally, inspired raw fear in her. That was the truth of this man. A glare void of mercy, void of any ounce of respect for life.

“I should break your bone right now and teach you -” Shido cut off, crying out in pained frustration as another boot shot forwards, smashing against his hand.

It wasn't a terribly violent kick, but still, the king hissed with pain. Haru quickly yanked her foot away, twisting her body to curl her legs to the side of her body, away from Shido's reach. Her heart was racing.

“Boy! Are you truly so stupid that you toss away your last chance to restore -”

“I am only saving your reputation,” Goro replied, his voice reverberating with carefully held calm. “The challenger is not to be harmed during the waiting period.”

Goro played the rules of this game so well. Without thinking, instinctively, he had moved in a way that protected them both from the king’s wrath. Haru’s heart ached for him, and yet, she respected the man across from her.

“How very noble of you,” King Shido replied, rubbing his hand. Some of his anger was swallowed by a calmer mask, but he did not fool either of them by it. “I shall take my leave, then. Well, Lady Okumura.” The way he spoke her name made a shiver run down Haru's spine. Honest glee shone in his eyes as he straightened to his full height.

What could this man possibly find solace in? Nothing good.

“You came to deliver justice to the murderer of your father, did you not? He is shackled across from you. You are very welcome.”

Shido watched, calmly, as Haru struggled to keep her face expressionless. As she could not help her gaze flitting towards Goro, registering it there - the guilt and defiance on his profile.

She felt cold all over, her fists tightening as the king laughed and turned to leave them like this, satisfied with all the damage he had done.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> And this is what I actually meant to write. That awkward, tense moment when you're shackled across from your father's real murderer while also trying to figure out his role in this strange, twisted play.  
> (Honestly I just wanted to write something that's Goro AND Haru centric with a mild dash of Akira featuring Kicking Shido's Ass.)
> 
> Pairing will still change! (I'm just not sure if it will in this installment?) I have no idea what I'm doing but fuck me sideways, let's do this.


End file.
